Julian is acting strange. More guarded. More restless. Isabelle senses a war inside him–one part wanting to push her away, the other desperate to pull her close.
Then, a letter arrives. Slipped under her door in the dead of night. No signature. Just a location scrawled in hurried ink: Old Willows House. Midnight.
Julian tries to stop her. “You don’t understand what you’re walking into.” His voice is thick with something unspoken-fear, or something deeper?
But Isabelle has come too far to turn back now.
At the abandoned house, the air is thick with silence. A single candle flickers inside. She pushes the door open, the floorboards creaking beneath her weight.
Then, a sound. A soft whimper.
She follows it into a dimly lit room-and there, hidden beneath a tattered blanket, is Max. Alive. But someone has been hiding him.
Before she can react, a shadow moves behind her. A hand clamps over her mouth.
A familiar voice hisses, “You should have stayed out of this.”
She struggles, but the grip is strong. Just when she thinks she might lose
consciousness-Julian bursts in, his eyes burning with something raw. Rage. Desperation. Fear for her.
The attacker flees, but the message is clear. Isabelle is dangerously close to uncovering something someone wants buried forever.
As Julian holds her, breath ragged, she finally sees it–the weight he’s been carrying. The truth is near. But so is the danger.
And neither of them can turn back now.
